


The Blizzard

by MKZ4345



Series: Killjoys [6]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Battery City, Gen, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28765851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKZ4345/pseuds/MKZ4345
Summary: When last we left our heroes, the impossible happened; snow was falling in the zones. Told to enter the very city they had spent their lives running from, how will the Killjoys survive in the depths of Battery City?In this installment of this Killjoys universe, we follow a few stories at a time. First, the Killjoys of course, and their experiences within the city. Also, who is the mysterious new CEO of Better Living Industries? And who is that too-perfect boy that always stands next to her? Meanwhile, a droid popstar's final tour unfolds... Outside the city, we follow the young zoner, York, who lives at the bottom of Dead Man's Drop with her adoptive mother and siblings. What will York do in the zones, with snow breaking the lift to the top and covering the only other way up?[THIS FIC IS A WORK IN PROGRESS. THIS FIC IS STILL BEING WRITTEN. PLEASE BE PATIENT, AS THERE IS NOT CURRENTLY AN UPDATE SCHEDULE. THANK YOU FOR READING!]
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Killjoys [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1266755
Kudos: 1





	1. They Were Going To Die.

**Author's Note:**

> So, not too long ago, I had a conversation with a reader in the comments of Tour. They were lovely, and said very nice things about my writing, which I appreciated. But in that conversation, I came to the realization that the way I write and post fics can sometimes be frustrating for people to read. Tour is something like over 57,000 words, and written all in one shot. If I were a reader, I wouldn't want to read that either! I know it can take a bit of commitment to sit down and read something that long, and some of my favorite fics are ones of that type, but I decided I wanted to do something different this time! There are lots of stories I want to tell in this, and I'm determined to tell them all, so I've decided to try posting this fic in chapters as it's being written!  
> I have never posted a fic like this before, I always get afraid I'll start it and then never finish it. This time I'm using this method to hold myself accountable. Or at least, I'm going to try. Anyway, thank you so much for reading if you got this far! I know Tour is hard to get through, it was a beast to write. This time around, I hope I don't get people too lost with the different stories I want to tell, because they all mean a lot to me to be able to tell.  
> Please enjoy!

They were going to die. He couldn’t stop thinking that. He had that in his mind the whole time they were packing up the important shit from the radio tower, and when they sent out an emergency message to all channels to get to cover if possible, and when they felt their bones frozen solid still walking around outside. The snow soaked through their shoes and made their jeans damp. It was coming down so hard, by the time they finally reached the city limits they could hardly see three feet in front of them. Poison worried about Shitty Teen’s choice to try and return to the train instead of coming with them.

Poison held the eastern slums gate open with freezing fingers, knuckles pink. The Killjoys and Show Pony all filed in through the hole in the gate. Poison came through with them and helped tear down a large section of the gate, allowing the bus to drive in. They got back on the bus, in the safety and warmth of it. Tango drove them deep into the city, but every building was a bad choice. The outer ones were so destroyed that snow was already piling up inside it, and the inner ones were all condemned and shut up tight.  
Tango stopped them in front of the large gateway to the underground levels of the city, sighing as he put the bus in park. They all knew. It was their only option.

The band got their equipment together, trying to find a way to ensure that they didn’t lose anything essential. It had taken them years to build up the proper equipment needed to put on shows outside the city, they couldn’t lose all that now.

The Killjoys grabbed the suitcases full of their clothes and the boxes full of the most important things from the radio tower. Show Pony held the box of Dr. Death Defying’s personal items tightly, the memory of his death still fresh in their mind. It was still fresh in all their minds.

Approaching the gate, Poison thought this was a horrible idea, that they shouldn’t do this, that they should turn back and try to hold out on their own. Then a cold wind blew over them, making all of them shiver, and Poison realized there was no other way. They had to go into the city, just like Destroya had told them.

The first steps down were full of anxiety, but then as they got lower they started hearing the chatter of other people. As they got low enough to enter the large room that led to the first of many underground levels of the city, they saw a sea of zoners at the gates. There was a line of soldiers along said gates, guns on their backs instead of drawn. The Killjoys approached cautiously, the band right behind them.

“I know this is a very stressful time for everyone,” a woman said over the indistinct murmur of the crowd. “I also know that you all do not trust me nor my city to keep you safe from it. But I can promise you, we will not harm you.”

“Holy shit, Party Poison!” someone called from the back of the crowd. The Killjoys saw it was Betty Bazooka of the Transistor Sisters. She hugged Poison so tight she nearly lifted him off the ground. “I thought you fuckers were dead!”

“We may as well be,” Korba muttered, walking forward to listen to what this official-looking woman was talking about.

“I’m so glad you guys are okay,” Poison said, looking to see the other Sisters waiting with the crowd. “Do you know if any other gangs made it?”

“I know the Birds of Prey are around here somewhere,” Betty answered, looking into the crowd. “And I know that some of the Gallons were able to make it inside.”

“Thank Destroya,” Poison said, feeling a weight lift off him.

“Have you seen any, uh,” Ghoul started, glancing around the crowd. “Kids?”

“What?” Betty almost laughed. “S-sorry, no. What the hell kind of question is that?”

“Forget I asked,” Ghoul said quickly. 

Poison remembered then, the kids at the bottom of Dead Man’s Drop with Quick Silver and Lucky Charm. He was worried about them, but it was no surprise they weren’t coming to the city. BLI’s hottest commodity is kids since their infant mortality rate is so high. They steal them, raise them in controlled environments and then send them into the city to continue the cycle, thrown into the machine that always chews you up and spits you out. However, it was concerning that they weren’t here. He wondered if the snow even reached Dead Man’s Drop. If it did, though, Lucky was there, and he was a zone protector. He wouldn’t let the kids die.

Poison put a hand on Ghoul’s arm, trying to comfort him. He seemed to stop fidgeting for the time being, taking Poison’s hand and clutching it tightly.

“I promise, your questions will be answered once we get you all inside the safety of the city,” the woman said loudly over the crowd whose questions were growing in volume. 

“What makes you think we believe you?” Kobra shouted, surprising the other Killjoys when they realized he was at the front of the crowd. 

“I don’t expect you to,” she answered, turning to face him. “But I am willing to try and convince you that I am being honest. My mother was a fool, not considering the zoners an integral part of our society and infrastructure. I refuse to make her mistakes.”

“So what, you’re just going to give us all free places to live until the storm blows over?” Kobra asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes,” she answered simply. “Though, if you insist, by all means, turn around and face the deadly cold on your own. I’m not here to trick you into doing something, there is no ulterior motive, I simply do not wish to see any of you die needlessly.”

“Who the fuck is this lady?” someone muttered at the front near Kobra.

“My name is Olivia,” she said to them, startling them. “I am the current CEO of Better Living Industries, which means I am the only one in this city with the power and authority to offer you all such a compromise. There are people on my board who wish to see you all perish, but I strongly disagree with them. I see no reason for needless death and needless war. This storm could kill countless of you and countless citizens of my city if we do not take proper precautions.”

“So it’s loss prevention?” Kobra jabbed.

“It is life preservation,” Olivia corrected. “Again, all your questions will be answered. First you must decide if you will stay.”

The other Killjoys were making their way through the crowd to get to Kobra’s side, the other zoners moving out of the way when they saw who they were.

“Oh my,” Olivia said suddenly, looking to the four of them and Show Pony. “How daft of me. You four are the famous Killjoys, yes?”

“We are,” Poison answered, pulling Kobra to stand behind him. “This offer, it’s temporary?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I am offering every person in this room a free place to live and access to a free place to eat during the duration of the snowstorm. No catch.”

“And once it’s clear, we can leave?” Poison asked. “You let us out, no complaints?”

“Of course.” Olivia smiled at him, and it wasn’t the usual BLI smile. She looked sincere. “Though, should any of you choose to stay afterward, you may apply for citizenship at the Citizen Affairs building. We will welcome you with open arms.”

“We’re not actually going to do this, are we?” Ghoul whispered to Poison.

“Alright,” Poison said to her, straightening up. The crowd of zoners behind him started murmuring worriedly. “Fine. We stay until the storm is gone, then you let us go.”

“All you have to do is wait,” she promised. “You all may enter the city, just follow Julia, she is the Director of Citizen Affairs. She will take your names and associations if applicable, and will direct you to your temporary place of living.”

Poison could feel the panicked gazes of the other Killjoys on the back of his head as he walked forward to enter the city. Destroya had told them they had to, so they had to. Plus, if it was a surefire way to keep his friends and family alive, he would do it.

* * *

The transition was so weird. One by one, every zoner that managed to get into the city talked to Julia and were given sheets of paper. The first was a map of the city and its many levels, the second were directions to their new place of living, and the last was a list of free services zoners could use if they didn’t have carbons. Somewhere along the line, the Killjoys got to the front and were pulled out of it by Olivia, where she told them that they would have a special place to live because Ghoul was family. Show Pony refused, demanding a place the stay somewhere close to the surface. They were granted one, but the Killjoys looked to them frantically when they made this demand. Show Pony promised to keep in touch and asked the boys not to worry about them. Begrudgingly, they agreed and headed to their new temporary place to live.

They didn’t talk as they moved through the city, toward what was essentially a large apartment. The streets were dirty, lined with trash, and the buildings looked like they had been rained on despite the vast majority of the city being underground. Steam billowed out of the streets and the buildings and they felt the rumble of the city’s subway system under their feel.

The deeper they went, the more twitchy Ghoul seemed to get. Poison kept an arm around him for support. He held Kobra’s hand with his free hand. Jet stood protectively on the other side of Ghoul, for no reason other than to make him feel safer.

Their apartment building was one of the taller, nicer-looking ones. It even had a canopy over the front doors. As they walked in, the people inside stopped what they were doing and stared at them. Ghoul felt like throwing up.

“How can I help you?” the droid at the front desk asked, smiling at them. The people who didn’t work behind the desk, the ones loitering in the lobby for one reason or another, stared at her now. She probably had just gotten a notice to serve them like any other Bat City citizen.

Poison slid her the paper with their temporary credentials, feeling the scrutiny of all the eyes in the room on them.

“Ah, of course,” she said, still smiling. She turned around and grabbed four keys and slid them across the counter. “Welcome to your new temporary home! Furniture services can be accessed through the communication terminal in the hall or here in the lobby!”

Poison took the keys, his fingers brushing hers just slightly. Her smile faltered suddenly, like she’d been shocked. She stared at him, her smile askew, then turned her smile up fully again and motioned toward the elevators.

* * *

The apartment was fine. It had three rooms with shitty beds and one bathroom and a kitchenette and it was more luxury than they’d seen in years. There was nothing in the living room, not even a chair, but they were more than fine with that. They didn’t want to personalize anything here. 

Ghoul kept peeking out the windows, staring down at the street. They were on the twelfth floor of the apartment building, which did absolutely dogshit for their sense of safety. There was no easy way out of the building and that kept their anxiety on high.

Poison spent all of thirty minutes pacing the barren apartment before he decided that sitting still in one place was a very bad idea. He left the apartment and the other Killjoys followed silently, not wanting to be in the building anymore either. 

As they left the lobby, Poison locked eyes with the droid at the counter they had talked to. She didn’t smile at him, she actually looked… Pleading? He almost stopped to see what was up, but she turned away to help someone else.

Outside, the city was still the same. It was warm at least, but it was also dark.

“What are we doing?” Jet asked, arms crossed. He was glancing around the street worriedly. “What’s the plan?”

“I want to make sure the other zoners are okay,” Poison said, trying to remember the map of the city he used to know. But he hadn’t thought about it in a while, so his mental map was all screwed up. He pulled the paper map out of his pocket and stared at it. Where the fuck were they again?

“How are we supposed to do that?” Kobra asked angrily, hugging his arms tightly around himself. “They scattered us across the city.”

“I know,” Poison muttered, glaring at the map. “Fuck, I don’t know…”

Ghoul didn’t say anything, but he started walking while they looked over the map. Poison looked up when he realized he was gone, startled, and ran to catch up to him.

“Hey, where are you going?” he asked, worried.

“Bar,” Ghoul said shortly. “Where do you think zoners would congregate?”

“Wherever there’s booze,” Jet answered, making a face.

Kobra bit his tongue, but he wanted a drink so bad it hurt. 

“Good thinking,” Poison said, though he frowned at the idea of letting Kobra somewhere with alcohol. “Let’s go see who’s near us.”

* * *

“What have you done?!” Nather screamed, throwing the doors to the office open in his rage. “You’re allowing them to live?!”

“Raise your voice at me like that again and I will make sure it can never be used again.” Olivia sat at her desk, her chair tall behind her. Her voice was like ice and it sent shivers down Nather’s spine. “Ask whatever question you’re demanding an answer to like a civilized person.”

“Ma’am,” Nather started, pressing down his military coat and smoothing out his hair. “For what purpose are we allowing the rats of the outer zones to live freely within the safety of the city?”

“Why are you questioning my choice?” Olivia countered, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“I am not,” he said carefully. “I simply would appreciate knowing your reasoning… So that I may see your true genius.”

Olivia glared at him, her icy white eyes drilling through his head. “My reasoning is simple, a child could understand it.”

Nather kept himself from getting upset, but only barely. He clenched his fists behind his back.

“Oliver,” Olivia called suddenly, turning to look at the young-faced boy who stood at attention behind her. 

“Yes ma’am?” Oliver answered, stepping forward to stand next to her. He was dressed as if he were family, perfectly tailored clothing, hair done just so, face made up to be stark white against his black hair. Nather couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Explain my reasoning to the Secretary of Security, please.” Olivia spun around in her chair to face the window. She gazed at the black artificial sky of the night.

“Ms. Olivia’s reasoning for allowing the zoners to enter and live in the city…” Oliver started. He scanned her desk, then looked out the corner of his eye at her. “Is to lure them into letting their guard down.”

Nather couldn’t see it, but he knew Olivia was smiling.

“They had one choice when the storm finally reached it’s full force, and it would’ve been easy to refuse their entry into the city and allow them to die in the storm,” Oliver explained, staring off at the bookshelves against the tall walls. “But there would be no guarantee that they wouldn’t evolve out there and become able to weather the storm.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Nather scoffed, shaking his head.

“It isn’t,” Olivia snapped. “Please continue, Oliver.”

“Zoners are known for their inability to follow orders, which extends to their lack of ability to follow the order of humanity,” Oliver went on, now looking to Nather. “Some would’ve survived, if not some humans then all droids. They are built not only to withstand intense heat but intense cold as well. Allowing them into the city is a way for Ms. Olivia to keep her eyes and ears on them, with the intention of luring them into a false sense of security so that she may squash them with maximum efficacy.”

“You’re wasting resources on them,” Nather argued, glaring at the back of her chair.

“I’m wasting resources on you,” Olivia growled, spinning back around to stare at him with wide, intense eyes. “And your inability to keep your Scarecrows in order. I know of three off the top of my head that have had to be reeducated just this week.”

Nather shut his mouth, now glaring at the floor.

“Perhaps if you could’ve showed me that you were actually capable of keeping order I would not be so close to firing you right now.” Olivia sighed, folding her hands onto her desk. “Perhaps then we wouldn’t have had to dethrone Mother.”

Nather didn’t speak another word. He knew what was coming.

“Guards if you’d please take Mr. Reech to the reeducation building,” Olivia called to the guards by the doors. They stepped up immediately and took Nather by the arms. “Give him my specialty video. Mother’s have been discontinued as of right now.”

“Yes ma’am,” the guards said in unison.

As Nather was dragged away and the doors shut, Oliver turned to look to Olivia. She had stood and was pouring herself a drink by the window.

“Ma’am?” Oliver said gently. 

“Oliver, tell me what you think of my decision.” Olivia took a sip of her drink, looking out at the city around them.

“I think that you have made the best possible decision in this current situation,” Oliver said instantly, processing her request faster than he could blink. “I think that, had you listened to more of what Mr. Reech had to say, you would have become angry and killed him.”

“I meant the decision about the zoners, dear,” Olivia clarified, a small smile crossing her face.

“Ah, yes of course.” Oliver stared at her, compiling information and processing the request. He frowned. “I think… Ma’am, if you will… I think that your decisions were well-planned, but that your contingencies may fail if the zoners do not let their guard down in time.”

“Explain.” Olivia took a breath.

“Well, you plan to lure them into believing the city will welcome them, only to have them killed one way or another. If this fails, you plan to allow them to leave the city and try to weather the storm and the floods to follow…” Oliver calculated as he stared at the floor. “It wouldn’t be much of an extermination if you allow them to leave.”

“Are you suggesting I don’t?” Olivia raised an eyebrow, glancing at him over her shoulder.

“I suggest you do what you feel you must,” Oliver clarified. “If you feel you must allow them to leave, then you should, ma’am. But I feel… I have this feeling that you should not.”

“Why?” Olivia turned to him, fascinated. 

“I’m not sure, ma’am,” Oliver tilted his head to the side. “I have this- feeling. Something protects them outside the city. Perhaps many things.”

“Incredible,” Olivia whispered, staring at him. “I trust you, Oliver. You know that, right?”

“Yes ma’am.” Oliver stood at attention.

“I want you to get out more,” she said, smiling at him.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Go to the bars on Friday nights, the clubs on Saturday nights.” She sipped her drink. “Meet people. Listen to people.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You may go,” Olivia said finally, letting out a contented sigh.

“Yes ma’am,” Oliver said again, turning to leave.

“And on your way out, tell Mother she’s horrible.”

“Yes ma’am.”


	2. Enter, A (Disgruntled) Popstar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, this is all I've written for this fic! It's still being written, so bear with me! I don't have a schedule for this fic, but I wanted to post what I'd written so far so that people might get excited about it and help encourage me to finish it sooner rather than later!   
> Thank you so much for reading!!

The bar was dim. Poison guessed that either the lights were going out or it was intentional. With the state of the rest of the city, he would bet on the former. Ghoul had found his way here like he’d known exactly where it was, which wasn’t out of the question. It just made Poison feel an unwelcome mix of unsettled and sorry for him. If it had been this long since he was in the city and he still knew where it was, he must’ve come here often.

Kobra had one drink, just to calm his nerves, then took Poison’s advice to just keep ordering water. They didn’t want to let their guard down for a second, he reminded them.

Around the bar, Poison saw mostly city dwellers. He finally spotted a group with faces screwed up in the same expression of paranoia and exhaustion that the Killjoys wore.

“Corner table,” Poison said quietly, only to Jet, then walked off toward the table.

The other Killjoys stayed at the bar, Ghoul shifting to look over his shoulder at Poison for just a moment before turning back to his glass of water.

Poison pulled a chair from a vacant table and sat backwards on it, facing the table that was clearly surrounded by other zoners. They looked instantly relieved when they saw it was him. “Where did they put you guys?”

“East of here,” one of them said immediately, pointing out the window. “We’re on the ninth floor. We couldn’t stay there.”

“They put us on the twelfth,” Poison said sympathetically. “Try not to lose your heads. We’re trying to get an idea of who’s around us right now. Do you know of anyone else around you? Maybe in the same building?”

“There’s another gang in our building,” another one said, leaning on the table tiredly. “They’re on a higher floor than us.”

Poison pursed his lips, thinking. It was possible that they’d all been put on high levels on purpose, make it harder for them to leave. It was a very small thing that could absolutely be intentional. He made a mental note to check the first floor availabilities when they got back. “Try to see what the vacancies are in your building, see if it’s intentional.”

They nodded to him and he stood. 

“And don’t let your guard down for a second.”

Poison walked back to the bar and filled the other Killjoys in on the gang he’d spoken to. They watched them leave, giving them reassuring smiles. Ghoul was practically vibrating with anxiety, unable to hold his cup to drink any more water, instead clutching his hands together as they shook.

“We should go back,” Poison said, feeling a stab of sadness for Ghoul’s state.

Just as they got up to leave, however, someone walked in and startled them all. They were a droid, for sure. Poison could tell instantly. His hair was black and done perfectly. He was dressed somewhat casually, but in a way that both Poison and Ghoul could tell was intentional. A spy of some kind, the Killjoys all silently agreed.

The man walked to the bar and sat next to Ghoul, not looking at them. Poison pulled Ghoul out of the chair, suspicion rising as the man ordered a water. 

They practically ran out of the bar, looking frantically around for anymore spies as they made their way back to their apartment building. Inside, Poison went right up to the front desk. It was far less busy now, thankfully.

“How may I help you?” the receptionist droid asked. Poison stared at her for a moment. She looked around, eyes darting quickly. “H-how can you help me?”

“I need to know if we can move to the first floor,” Poison said, hushed. 

“I was told not to,” she whispered back, looking sorry.

“I know, make it look like someone else moved in.” He curled his fists, frustrated at her situation, and changed the subject. “If I get you out, they’ll replace you with someone less forgiving. We could use your help.”

“I’ll do my best,” she sighed. She looked at her desk, then back up at him. “It’s harder in this building, it’s nicer so it has more surveillance. Anywhere else and I’d say just take a unit…”

“Anything you can do.” He looked at her, expression somewhere between pleading and reassuring.

“Oh, you know what…” she said suddenly, blinking in realization. “I think I know someone who can ‘rent’ that apartment for you… I just have to call him.”

“You’re a life saver,” Poison sighed, smiling at her.

“I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to call him, but until then I’ll turn off your room’s surveillance.”

“No, leave it on, they’ll get suspicious if you do.”

“They’ll be suspicious anyway if you’re not there anymore.”

He pondered this, then sighed. “Your choice.”

She turned back to her computer, sitting down and typing away. Poison returned to the other Killjoys and filled them in quickly as they moved toward the elevator. Ghoul and Kobra both gave deep sighs of relief at the knowledge that they’d be on the ground floor tomorrow. Jet turned to smile at the receptionist, who smiled back at him.

Up in their apartment, they decided on shifts. Poison would take the first, then Jet, then Kobra, then Ghoul. As the other three Killjoys settled down in one bedroom to sleep (they’d moved all the beds into the same room), Poison walked from the door to the window and back again. It was probably the smallest route he’d ever patrolled, but it was surely the most important. He checked out the door, peering through the peephole, then walked to the window and tried not to vomit at the vertigo he got from looking down from such a hight. He looked up at the artificial sky for good measure, checking the tops of the other buildings around them. Nothing stirred on his shift, and when his time was up he went and silently woke Jet, who had apparently been acting at Ghoul’s body pillow.

“Poison?” Ghoul murmured, not fully awake.

“Yeah,” Poison whispered, curling into bed next to him and pulling him into a protective hug. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mm.” Ghoul shoved his face into Poison’s neck and fell right back asleep.

Poison took longer to sleep, like usual for him and made worse by their situation. He watched the lines on Kobra’s face as he seemed to have a nightmare. It only took Poison’s fingers brushing his arm to get his face to smooth over, so Poison told himself it was okay to sleep too.

* * *

“I fucking hate this outfit, get me a different one.”

“But this one is the best one for today, remember, sir?”

“I- ugh, fine.”

The fabric slid easily over their arms, the fluffy tool collecting mostly around their wrists as they put their arms down at their sides. The back was buttoned and the collar fixed to stand just right against his neck. Carefully, they stepped into the shorts, making sure not to topple over. Once pulled up, they watched them get fastened, staring darkly at the fingers doing the fastening.

“Sir, please focus.”

“I’m well-focused, Maude.”

“On your business, sir.”

“My business is quite close to your fingers.”

“Your music business, sir.”

“Maude Black, I feel faint.” They lifted an arm to their forehead and fell back, smirking as Maude ran to catch them in his arms. “You’ve made the blood rush from my head.”

“Do you need water?” Maude asked, a tilt to his tone that made their blood rush again.

“I may just have to be kept horizontal for a while.”

Just then there was a knock at the dressing room door and a disinterested, disembodied voice that called, “you’re on in twenty.”

They glared at the door as they heard footsteps recede down the hallway.

“You should prepare for your show, sir.” Maude put them down and fixed their hair.

“Ma’am,” They corrected, huffing and swatting his hands away. “Where are my shoes?”

“By the door, ma’am.” Maude walked to the door and picked up their shoes, turning to face them. “Do you need help putting them on, ma’am?”

“Of course,” they said dramatically, slumping into the chair in front of the vanity. “I haven’t done my evening stretching, I couldn’t dream of putting them on myself.”

Maude knelt down, his suit crinkling as he did so, and gently held their left ankle. Parade watched with those same dark eyes from earlier as Maude slipped the elaborate shoe onto their foot and tied the satin ribbon. Once the other was on, they leaned forward and put their hands on Maude’s shoulders, keeping their faces close. 

“Focus, ma’am.” Maude said, but his voice was barely a whisper.

“Sir,” they corrected, then kissed him firmly.

Another knock at the door and another bored sounding “you’re on in five” interrupted them, but they ignored it, kissing Maude deeply.

“Sir, your performance,” Maude said helplessly, trying to untangle their hand from his white hair.

“Will you be watching?” they asked, their breath hot against Maude’s neck.

“Of course, sir.”

They bit their lip, then sat back in the chair and sighed. “Water?”

Maude got up and grabbed a bottle from the table without a word, handing it to them. They downed the bottle and then stood, made taller by the heels they were wearing.

“Showtime,” they said, eyes shining.

* * *

The next morning, the Killjoys were told they could move into an available unit on the ground floor. The receptionist, Sadie, had someone reserve the apartment for them secretly. They thanked her over and over and she waved them off, telling them to stay safe. 

The new apartment was smaller, but they were fine with that. It had windows that lead right out to the street so they felt a lot safer. It had one bedroom, which worked better for them, an empty living room, a bathroom, and a kitchenette like the last one. 

They sat around in the apartment, trying to process the last few days and figure out what to do next. Poison watched his friends, his family, pace themselves into panic attacks and then back out of them. Ghoul kept looking out the windows, Kobra’s hands twitched every other second, and Jet couldn’t sit down. He knew it was a bad idea to let their guard down, but the anxiety would eat them alive if they didn’t take a fucking second to relax.

“Let’s shower,” Poison said suddenly, startling the others. “One at a time, so we can still keep watch.”

The other Killjoys nodded silently. Poison stood up from where he was sat on the floor and pulled Ghoul with him. 

“I know I said one at a time, but I thought maybe you could use some help calming down,” he said once they were in the bathroom. 

“I don’t want to calm down,” Ghoul said, voice strained. “I don’t want to-”

“I know, but you won’t be able to be prepared if you’re wound up so tight.” Poison turned the water on and pulled his shirt off. “We can’t let ourselves get too paranoid.”

“What are you even saying?!” Ghoul shouted suddenly. “There’s no such thing as too paranoid in the city!”

“Ghoul-” Poison tried, reaching out to him.

“No!” Ghouol stepped back harshly. “What if they got to you?!”

“What?” Poison blinked at him.

“You’re a droid, what if-!”

“Ghoul!” Poison snapped, shutting him up. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re losing it, we all are! We’re in the fucking lion’s den, I know that, but that means we can’t let them use each other to tear us apart!”

Ghoul stared at him, eyes still cautious.

“We need to keep our heads on our fucking shoulders or else we’re going to end up separated in the city and who fucking knows what will happen then.” Poison had stopped shouting. He took a step toward Ghoul and gently put a hand on his arm. “BLI can’t get to me, and I won’t leave you alone until we can get the fuck out of here.”

Ghoul’s face was full of conflicting emotions. “What do you mean they can’t get to you?”

“I was thinking about it last night,” Poison said slowly. “When that scarecrow showed up and took control of Show Pony, it seemed like he expected me to be affected by it too. But I wasn’t.”

Ghoul took the hand that was on his arm, tension slowly releasing from his shoulders.

“And when we met Sadie, I touched her hand and it seemed like she snapped out of it, like I woke her up somehow…” Poison drew his eyebrows together. “I don’t think they can get to me.”

“You’re like Jesus,” Ghoul said quietly, a small smirk on his face.

“Shut up,” Poison laughed, shoving his hand away. He was glad that Ghoul was feeling a bit better, though. “Let’s take a fucking shower.”

“Oh do we have soap?” Ghoul asked in wonder, looking at the bottles on the edge of the tub.

“We do,” Poison said, picking one of them up. “This one’s for your body… It still seems weird that you need different soap for different parts of your body.”

“Well, you’d dry the fuck out of your hair if you just used body wash,” Ghoul said, like it was obvious. 

“Why are there two for your hair?” Poison asked, holding the shampoo and conditioner bottles, looking between them.

“One’s for taking oils out of it, the other’s for putting oil back in.” Ghoul took his clothes off and took the shampoo out of Poison’s hand. “This one goes first.”

“You’d think I would’ve learned this at some point…” Poison muttered, finishing getting undressed too. 

“It’ll happen when you live with a maniac.”

“Guess so.”

* * *

After their shower, Poison and Ghoul filled in Jet and Kobra about how to use the soap in the right ways. Jet looked like he recognized the names and was remembering what they were from ages ago. Kobra looked confused.

“It helped to have someone else to show you what to do,” Poison said, making a face. “I know it would probably be weird to you guys, but you should shower together. It helps.”

Jet was about to say no when he saw Kobra’s completely confused expression, mouthing the names of the different soaps, and laughed.

“Yeah, probably,” Jet said, pulling Kobra up by the arm. “Come on.”

They went into the bathroom together and Poison moved to stand by the windows. Ghoul peeked out into the hall and then shut the door again, locking it with both locks, then went to stand next to Poison.

“What’s the plan?” Ghoul asked quietly. He hadn’t realized how much he needed a break to clear his head. Now he could see clearly. His anxiety was still there, but he was able to hold it back for now. They needed to do something, but he didn’t know what, which meant that Poison probably did.

“We need to find the Sisters,” Poison said, eyes scanning the street. There were a handful of city dwellers walking around. “We need to help them find some vehicles or else we’re never going to get anywhere.”

“Where do we need to go?” Ghoul was always amazed at how he could form a plan out of thin air.

“We need to be able to find the major gangs at least,” Poison said, sighing. “We need to stay connected. And we also need to find a TV.”

“A TV?”

“We need to monitor the storm somehow.” Poison looked up at the artificially blue sky. “We have no idea what it looks like out there.”

“Okay, where do we start?” Ghoul scanned the street too, looking out for anyone who looked like that guy from the bar. 

“We could try to go the official route, ask the Citizen Affairs people. Might take some paperwork but it would give us a concrete answer as to where they are.” Poison checked the street again and stopped to stare at one guy. It was the guy from the bar. “On our left.”

Ghoul saw him too, and stared at his outfit. He looked like- like family. Ghoul surprised himself at what he said next. “We should follow him.”

Poison looked at him. “Why?”

“He looks like…” Ghoul’s stomach churned at the thought. “He looks like he works for Olivia or something. He looks like f-family.”

Poison looked back out at the street. The guy was walking at a leisurely pace and looking through some paperwork. He looked positively normal in Battery City Uptown, like everyone else. Except for the fact that he was a droid, which made no sense. As far as either of them knew, Droids were always made to be second-class citizens, if citizens at all. Ghoul was right, this guy was dressed like he worked for Olivia, and not just that, but he looked important. His hair was even dyed black.

“I think you’re right,” Poison said after a while. The guy stopped on the street to sift through his papers, trying not to drop them. “We should follow him.”

Ghoul made a move to leave, but Poison grabbed his arm.

“Which is exactly why we won’t.”

“What?” Ghoul stared at him.

“We’ve seen him twice, both times intentionally.” Poison looked at Ghoul seriously. “Two’s a coincidence, three’s a pattern. If he really wants us to follow him we’ll run into him again.”

Ghoul looked back out at the street. The guy had found his paper, but still hadn’t moved. Like he was waiting for something. “Okay.”

They stayed at the window, watching the guy. Eventually, he gave up and looked around, even checking alleyways, before giving up again and walking swiftly down the street, papers at his side now. Ghoul didn’t want to think about what trap they were trying to draw them into with this droid. He didn’t want to think about any of this. But he had to, he reminded himself, because ignoring what was happening was what made Battery City what it was today. He wouldn’t ignore the city anymore, he couldn’t.


	3. Sorry To Rain On Your Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Killjoys receive and invite... To a concert?  
> What's going on out in the zones?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I've just finished a sizable chunk of this fic so I figured I would post it as a chapter! Thanks for sticking around if you've read all the other Killjoys fics in this series, that's super crazy and I appreciate it!

“They didn’t follow me,” Oliver said, sounding sad. He stood by Olivia’s ornate desk as he always did, shoulders back, hands folded in front of him, standing square on his feet.

“That’s fine,’ Olivia said. She was turned around, watching out the window. “They will on your third try.”

“… If I could, ma’am?” Oliver asked quietly.

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you simply request an audience with them?” He wrung his hands slightly, worried by his own question.

“Because they would refuse,” she answered simply, though she did look over at him. “Why do you ask?”

“I just-…” Oliver looked over her desk. Papers were strewn about it, they looked like request forms from the other members of the board. Every one of them had a big red stamp on them that read DENIED. “They have no reason to distrust you yet.”

“Of course they do, I’m the CEO.”

“But logically you’ve shown them nothing that would suggest you were at all like your mother,” he explained, and quickly followed it up with, “which you aren’t, but… You’ve shown them nothing to make them think you’ll turn on them.”

Olivia looked at him a while, then raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps we can save the espionage for when they really don’t trust us.”

She turned back to the sky, watching the projected holographic clouds roll over them.

“Send them an invitation to the concert,” she said suddenly. “I won’t invite them here just yet, I’d rather they see what the city might offer them.”

“… You really want them to stay, don’t you?” Oliver asked boldly. “The Killjoys.”

Olivia said nothing, staring out the window.

“… I’ll send the invite, ma’am.” Oliver turned and walked off toward the large doors.

“On your way out, tell mother she’s horrible,” Olivia said, followed by a long-suffering sigh.

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

“A concert?” Jet said, scoffing like it was ridiculous. “Of what music?”

“Could be trying to brainwash us,” Kobra said quietly, looking at the invite on the floor. 

They’d gotten it in the mail that they apparently would be getting every day. Poison had thrown the small stack of ads in the middle of the living room and they all stared at the invitation to a concert. It didn’t say who was performing, it just called it “the concert.”

“They have other ways of doing that,” Poison muttered into his hand. He was pacing. He had been trying to think about how to contact the Sisters. But now, he thought, maybe this concert would be the perfect place to gather all the zoners. Whether that was good or bad, he couldn’t decide. He could try and spread a message through the network of zoners that were around them, try to get them all to come to the concert so that they could actually coordinate something. But that could be dangerous to do in such a public place. He decided it would be safer to just try and pass along a message through the closest zoners to the Sisters to meet them at the bar. They could investigate this concert alone. 

“Well, we’re not going,” Ghoul said, then saw the look on Poison’s face. “… Are we?”

“We were invited,” Poison started slowly. “And there will be tons of other people there. Maybe they want us to see something.”

“Fuck them!” Kobra yelled. “Who cares?! We’re not going anywhere we can’t clear first!”

“I hear you,” Poison said, looking at Kobra. “But I think we should go and see what’s going on. We have no reason to think they’ll try something out in public, and they might just be trying to entice us to stay here.”

“We are not about to go to a fucking concert at a time like this,” Jet said, like he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“They want us to go for some reason, and I think it would be a good way to find our way around the city if nothing else,” Poison said sternly. “I know it’s weird, but I have a feeling we should go.”

“Like a Destroya feeling?” Ghoul asked, reaching up to take Poison’s hand, stopping him from pacing. “Or a Party Poison feeling?”

“I can’t hear Destroya in the city, so I guess a Party Poison feeling,” he answered, sitting down next to him. 

“I guess I’d trust it either way,” Ghoul said. He pulled Poison’s hand into his lap and entwined their fingers together. 

“Are we seriously going to do this?” Jet asked, in a tone that sounded like he still thought it was ridiculous. But he was staring at their hands in Ghoul’s lap, feeling steadied in the presence of their stability.

“It wouldn’t be fair to not make it a vote,” Poison said. “But we don’t have a tiebreaker if it comes to that.”

Kobra huffed a sigh and searched Poison’s face for a moment, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out an old coin. Everyone immediately recognized it as Dr. Death Defying’s antique silver dollar coin. “Here’s our tiebreaker.”

Poison nodded. “Okay, all in favor of going to the concert in order to conduct some recon?”

Poison and Ghoul both raised their hands. Jet looked conflicted, staring at the floor. Eventually he shook his head. 

“Guess we’re going to get a chance to use it then,” Poison said, looking at Kobra.

Kobra flipped the coin, and as he did he thought to himself about whether this was actually going to be the deciding factor. If he thought about it longer, he probably would see the upsides of getting to know the city better, or the importance of at least knowing what was around them. He didn’t have to think long as Ghoul called the side while it was in the air.

“Heads,” Ghoul said as the coin reached its maximum height.

The coin fell to the floor, hitting the carpet with a dull and quiet thud. A tarnished silver face of a woman stared up at them.

“Fucking hell,” Kobra sighed. “Fine.”

* * *

The plan was this: keep close to each other, if it gets too crowded, keep your hand on another’s shoulder and don’t let go for anything, and do not leave under any circumstances without a partner. The concert was outdoors, in a parking lot in front of an apparently popular record store. That was already throwing the Killjoys off because everyone outside the zones was under the impression that things like colorful record stores with rock sections and metal sections and basically any section other than pop designed to brainwash you were illegal inside Battery City. And yet, there one stood. It wasn’t small either, it was easily twice the size of the store next to it and it had two fucking floors. Whatever music they sold there, it apparently sold well.

When the Killjoys got there, the crowd was already nearly filling the parking lot. There seemed to be die-hard fans of whoever was going to play everywhere, each one with some kind of merch for whoever Parade was. The merch was confusing, it looked like all different genres of music. Pop, rock, metal, techno, dance… There might’ve even been a country-looking shirt here or there, it was fucking weird.

They’d barely been there for five minutes, searching the crowd for any other zoners, when music started to play from the speakers.

“ _Bury me six feet deep/bury me in concrete/turn me into a street_ ,” the mysterious singer whispered into the mic. No one could see them yet, but smoke started pouring from the stage. 

The crowd cheered and surged forward, pushing the Killjoys toward the stage. When the singer stepped into view, the Killjoys all froze, a chill rolling down all their spines. They looked just like Poison.

“Sorry to make you wait!” the singer, Parade apparently, called to the crowd. Their voice sounded nothing like Poison’s, it was more feminine and, frankly, perfect. “I was busy getting dressed!”

The crowd cheered.

“Who’s ready to get buried?” they asked, winking at the crowd.

“This is fucked,” Ghoul muttered, pulling the train of Killjoys through the crowd away from the stage. 

Poison looked back catch a last glance at the singer as they started the song properly. He caught their eye and they shared a moment of recognition, the singer stumbling over a word momentarily as they realized that Poison looked just like them. Poison let Ghoul pull him and the others out of the crowd and onto the other side of the street. The crowd had filled up the parking lot and started spilling out onto the road.

Once they were free of the crowd, both Ghoul and Kobra had to take a minute to calm down. Crowds weren’t something common in the zones and it all was just making their anxiety worse. Jet and Poison thankfully found someone giving out free water and they all chugged a few bottles. As soon as they all finished their water, Poison started walking.

“Where are we going?” Kobra asked, keeping one hand on Poison’s arm and the other hand holding Jet’s.

“Need to find a place to buy a tv,” Poison said, still trying to shake off the weirdness of seeing himself up on a stage dressed like a cookie cutter popstar. “We have to find out how the zones are doing.”

The other Killjoys nodded, gladly moving on from the weirdness of the concert. They walked a few blocks away, still able to hear the blaring music. It sounded like metal mixed with pop music, which was confusing. Everything about what they’d just gone through was confusing. Why did Battery City have real music? Why had they been invited to a concert? Why did the singer look like Poison? What was it about that one droid model that BLI couldn’t seem to get the fuck over?

“I think I see one,” Jet said, pulling Poison from his thoughts. “Looks like they have new tvs in the window.”

“What is this, the sixties?” Ghoul scoffed. Then he looked to Kobra. “Was that right? The sixties?”

“Yes,” Kobra said, smiling to stop himself from laughing. “If Dr. Death’s old magazines are to be believed, that is a thing they did in the sixties.”

“I mean, they did it after the sixties too,” Jet added, rolling his eyes. “It was just a bigger deal in the sixties because color tvs were getting popular.” 

“Okay, cool history lesson,” Poison said, pulling the door open.

Immediately, the clerk behind the counter turned around to look over their shoulder at them. When they did, they scowled.

“Ugh, dirty zone rats…” they grumbled, putting their book down and turning to face them fully. “How may I help you today, sirs?”

“Need a cheap tv, something that plays the weather channel,” Poison said. He was not in the mood to deal with people like this person.

“All our tvs can play whatever channels you want, but the plans are purchased separately,” the clerk said, sounding annoyed. “Do you need someone to help you learn how to use it? Because I’m not in the mood to teach a group of zone rats how to use basic technology.”

“And I’m not in the mood to carry your body to the dumpster,” Poison growled. “Cheapest fucking tv you have, how much?”

“I’m going to have to ask you not to threaten me, sir,” the clerk sneered. “Cheapest television we have is thirty carbons. You do know what those are, right?”

Poison slapped a fifty on the counter. “Keep the change, go get it.”

The clerk pointed to the shelf where the tv was and Kobra grabbed it, walking out immediately with Jet and Ghoul. Poison hung back an extra moment.

“Ugh, did you need anything else?” the clerk asked, face contorted in disgust.

“Who’s playing down the street?” Poison asked, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Parade,” the clerk said, then waited for a reaction. Eventually they rolled their eyes and glared at him. “God, you rats really are out of the loop, aren’t you? Parade is the city’s biggest popstar since… Well, ever. If you don’t know at least half their songs, you’re nobody.”

“Their name is Parade?” Poison asked, frowning. “What kind of name is that?”

“What’s your name?” the clerk asked, smirking. 

Poison’s expression snapped to a glare. “Oh. I see.”

“If you want a cd, the record store across the street just got a shipment,” the clerk said. They turned around and picked their book back up. “Bout time you rats start listening to real music.”

“You wouldn’t know real music if it fucked your mom,” Poison spat as he walked out of the store. 

The other Killjoys looked at him in confusion as he crossed the street and went into the small record store across from the electronics store. When he came out with a cd, they looked even more confused.

“Wanted to find out a little more about this Parade person,” he said, brushing off their questioning looks. “Let’s just get back to the apartment and turn this stupid thing on.”

* * *

York pushed the metal plate to the side, finally seeing the light of the sun after so long underground. The air was colder, it was crisp and almost painful to breathe. She pulled herself out of the hole at the bottom of Destroya’s chest and covered it back up again before crawling out of Destroya’s torso. The light was blinding, the sun reflected off the white ground right into her eyes. She pulled on the goggles Lucky had given her and she could finally see without all the glare. Whatever this snow shit was, it was freezing cold, completely white, and shinier than any metal she’d seen before. Lucky had told her that it was frozen water, that when it got cold enough it fell from the sky out of clouds. All that made sense, but what didn’t was why it suddenly covered the entirety of the zones. Luckily, the bottom of Dead Man’s Drop wasn’t entirely covered. It was partially covered, but it seemed like they were far enough away from the eye of the storm, as Lucky had called it.

York tightened her boots before setting out toward the Nest. It was quiet inside, just as quiet as the rest of the zones. There were clear signs of someone having been here when the snow started, things had been haphazardly thrown to the side, clothes left strewn around the floor, cans knocked over, and it looked like the tv had burnt out from being left on so long. She walked through the mess to the back of the Nest, where zoners stashed their snacks. Things had been taken from it, but it hadn’t been cleared out, and thank the Phoenix Witch for that. Quick Silver had told her not to take food or supplies from anyone’s home, and since the Nest was a neutral zone where everyone got a fair share when they needed it, York saw it as the perfect place to look for supplies. Because she knew Quick Silver would be upset if she didn’t, she left a few cans and bags of food in case someone else came looking for supplies to survive.

Back out in the snow, York shivered. The longer she spent outside, the colder she got. Lucky had said it was because the clothes they made out here were for the heat, not the cold. Sure, desert nights could get pretty cold, but that was nothing another layer couldn’t fix. This was a different kind of cold. This was the kind of cold that permeated your bones and made you feel numb. At least, that’s how York’s fingers were feeling by the time she got back to the bottom of Dead Man’s Drop.

“York’s back!” Cherry yelled, running out of their shack-house to hug her. “Did you get some stuff? Are you cold? Come sit by the fire!”

York pulled her goggles off where she’d set them on her head and tugged her shitty scarf away from her neck. She also let herself be pulled by Cherry to the large bonfire that Quick Silver and Lucky had been working on all day. It was fucking bliss when she finally got close enough to feel the heat of it.

“Oh thank the protectors you’re alright,” Quick Silver said, rushing over to hug York and take her bag from her. “You’re freezing, get by the fire.”

York didn’t respond, too tired and cold to pick any fights or make any comments. She wanted to warm back up too. The trek through the tunnel was long and fucking brutal. Darkness, cold, sometimes damp, and it fucked with your head after a while. By the time she finally had her wits back, the sun was going down. Lucky came out from Quick Silver and the kids’ house and came to sit with York.

“How you holding up?” he asked, picking up a stick to poke the fire.

“Can feel my toes again, so I’m good,” York responded. “Got some decent stuff from the Nest, but I left some things just in case someone else needed things too.”

“The zones are lucky to have you, York,” Lucky said, his tone colored with something she couldn’t place. “Take care of yourself tonight, I’m still looking into getting the lift working again.”

“Mm,” she hummed, staring into the fire. So much had changed. There had to be something else she could be doing, something to make sure the kids were safe, something she could do to make sure other zoners were doing okay.

Next to her, Cherry plopped down in the dirt and leaned on her shoulder. Rochester, Aspen, and Echo all joined them after a while too, all warming up by the fire. York promised herself that she would be strong for all of them, that she would get stronger so that Quick Silver didn’t have to worry so much about everything. 

By the time the night came, they were inside by their new fireplace the landscaping droids had retrofitted from some old cars. They had been doing their best to keep all their food growing at the bottom of the drop, but the cold temperatures killed at least half their usual crops. It was the reason York had to go scavenging at all. She watched the fire in the fireplace flicker and dance, warming her sleeping family next to her.

“York,” Quick Silver whispered from behind her. When she turned, she saw Silver standing by the front door. “Come here.”

York got up immediately, going to stand with her. It was colder away from the fire, but it wasn’t that bad. Quick Silver took her outside to the back of the house, then to the shed where they kept their scrap and other supplies.

“I think it’s time I give you something,” Silver said, opening the shed and digging through a box near the door. “You’re almost fifteen now, you know.”

“Yeah,” York said, trying to peer over her shoulder to see what she was getting.

“Do you know what that means?” Silver turned back around, holding something behind her back.

York shook her head.

“It means you’re almost old enough for this.” Silver brought around the item she was hiding, and York gasped when she saw it. It was a white mask, like the ones the Killjoys wore but a completely blank slate. Silver placed it in her hands and put a hand over it. “In a few months it’ll be your fifteenth birthday. I want you to think about what you want your mask to look like until then, okay?”

York nodded, still staring at the mask in wonder.

“It’s important to get it right. It’s not like your name, your name you can change. Your mask is who you are to the world, you only get one, and you have to treat it like a tattoo. It’s something that won’t ever change, something that the people you love will tuck safely into the mailbox one day so that the Phoenix Witch can find you and take you to the other side.”

York looked up at Silver and saw her face. There were new lines there, signs of unstoppable aging and time passing. Her hair was getting gray in some places too. “Do you have a mask?”

“I did,” Silver sighed. “I lost it a long time ago…”

“What happens when you lose your mask?” York gripped her blank one.

“You’re nobody,” Silver answered, her gaze drifting into the distance. “You lose your family, you lose the people who are supposed to put you to rest, you lose yourself.”

York took her hand. “You didn’t lose your family, though.”

“I did,” Silver said, looking back at her sadly. “I lost my original family. That’s why I knew I had to make my own. So that I had someone to at least mourn my death, even if they couldn’t put me to rest the right way.”

“Where did you lose it?” York asked.

“Somewhere you will never go,” Silver said, suddenly very serious. York didn’t need to be told that it had been in the city. “There’s more than a few reasons we’re only safe down here, more than a few reasons I can never go topside again.”

York made a silent and secret vow to find Quick Silver’s mask so that she didn’t have to wander the zones for eternity. She held her blank mask close to her chest.

“Let’s get back inside,” Silver said, shivering. “It’s cold.”

* * *

The sun really didn’t do much to melt the snow, even if it did help with staying warmer. York trudged through a particularly deep patch toward the radio tower. She’d gone totally off course from where she said she’d be checking today, but she didn’t care. She had a feeling there might be some way to contact the city from the radio tower.

It still stood tall, but the snow made it look dreary and wet. The trans am still sat in the parking lot outside, which got her excited until she remembered there was no way to drive it on the snow-covered streets. Not with out some kind of way to clear them, she thought, pursing her lips. Kobra hadn’t gotten a chance to teach her about cars, but she’d heard Jet once say that the best way to learn was by doing. She wondered about the possibility of some kind of flame-throwing attachment as she walked into the radio tower.

Inside, it was nearly gutted. Old records and cds were strewn around the floor, old clothes, and other things that weren’t essential were left lying around, but the rest of the building was empty. The Killjoys’ beds were still in their rooms, but their things had been taken with them. It was surprisingly emotional for York, she found herself close to tears as she entered the relay room and found it in a similar state. The map was still up, but the boxes of important documents were gone, along with the majority of the radio equipment.

She walked over to the ham radio that sat on the edge of the desk and turned it on, catching only static. She spun the dial and only heard static. She turned it off finally and sighed, looking around the room. What was she here to do again? Contact the city, right. She had no way of finding out how the fuck to do that, thanks to everything being moved or taken with. She searched and searched but the room gave her nothing to work with but the ham radio. She left it there, figuring she could come back to it if she had to. It wasn’t like they had electricity at the bottom of the drop anyway.

Back outside, the temperature had seemed to drop further and the sun no longer made the snow glitter.

“Shit,” York muttered, taking off toward where the road would’ve been, had it not been covered in snow of course. She could already see new snow falling from above. She had to get back fast.

But as luck would have it, the gentle sprinkling of snow soon turned into a storm, and York expected it to be another blizzard soon. She and the other kids had learned a lot of new words after the snow started to fall. One of those was hypothermia, which was when you got so cold that you fucking died. York found that word and what it meant to be the most terrifying thing she’d ever heard of. It went against everything the zones taught you when you were young.

She ran as well as she could through the snow, deciding it would be the best idea to head for the diner instead of trying to go back to the Nest. There was no way she’d make it there. Running into the diner, York slammed the door behind her and shook the snow off herself. 

The diner was in its usual state: disrepair. There were old empty alcohol bottles and food wrappers on the floor, a semi-functioning coffee maker on the counter, and barely flickering lights above the checkered tile. York glanced up at them, wondering if the place ran on a generator. She would’ve gone out to check but her fingers were already numb, so instead she settled for turning on the stove burners for warmth. 

The blizzard raged outside the diner, already building up enough snow to trap her inside for a while. She wondered if she could run the oven and heat up the diner, wondered how long that would take. She would need to stay warm if she was going to be forced to stay the night there.

Searching the diner, York found some interesting things stowed away. It was no secret the Killjoys used the diner as a sort of catch-all for their ever-growing mountains of stuff, the hoarders they were. It made her smile to find pieces of them there. One of Kobra’s old tank tops, a half used bottle of red hair dye, something that was probably an old explosive of Ghoul’s, and an old broken comb of Jet’s. Some zoners would definitely categorize these things as trash, and York was one of them. Except for Kobra’s old shirt, that was hers now. Recycling, and all that jazz.

York pulled herself up onto the counter next to the still-lit stove and curled over the heat there. The diner took its sweet fucking time warming up, but after what felt like forever it finally started feeling warmer despite the storm that still raged outside. She wished she could radio Quick Silver and tell her she was okay, but there was no way of doing that while there was a storm like that outside. She would have to be okay with them trusting her abilities.

The storm was still raging outside when York heard something rattling the back door of the diner. She got up fast, grabbing an old beer bottle off the ground just in case. She crept down the hall toward the door and saw the back door rattling. Too much to be just the wind. Maybe, she thought, if she left it alone whatever it was would leave or die in the snow. But then, she thought begrudgingly, if it was a zoner she had to open it.

York threw the door open and readied her bottle just in case, but dropped it in shock when she saw who it was.

“L-l-let me i-in, kid!” Show Pony said, shivering violently in the cold.

“Holy shit!” York exclaimed, pulling them inside and slamming the door. “What the hell are you doing out here?!”

“C-could ask y-y-you the s-same question,” Show Pony grumbled. They stumbled to the front of the diner. Their joints looked stiff in a strange way that York couldn’t fully place.

“I was checking the radio tower, but then the storm hit and this was the closest place to ride with heat.” As York explained her situation, Show Pony fell into a booth and groaned. “How did you get out of the city?”

“Long-ass story that can wait,” they said stiffly. “Right now I need you to find something to light on fire so I can unfreeze my joints.”

“Uh, okay,” York mumbled. She had some questions, but decided it would be easier to just do as they asked. Luckily there was some wood from an old broken table she could light. She lit a piece of it on the stove and gave it to Show Pony, who was still laying on the seats of a booth.

Show Pony accepted it silently, pulling it over next to their face. After a moment, they sighed. “Thanks. Sorry, jaw froze up.”

York pulled herself up into the seat across from Show Pony. She watched, endlessly curious about their actions, as Show Pony held the fire to each of their joints, sometimes swiping their arm or leg through the fire. After a while, it seemed like they were warming back up, and so was the diner. 

Show Pony sat up and put the fire out, tossing the wood aside. Then they folded forward, resting their elbows on their knees, and sighed. York felt the despair in that sigh. “I couldn’t stay there.”

York didn’t say anything, simply watching their back and obscured face.

“They would’ve taken me back to the House, and I can’t do that.” They ran a hand through their hair. “I don’t know what to do anymore though. The Killjoys can take care of themselves, they’ll be fine without me. But… I don’t know what to do with myself…”

“Because Dr. Death Defying died?” York asked. She didn’t think it was totally her place to talk with Show Pony about this, but they’d sort of brought it up first.

They flinched at his name, hugging their arms tightly. “Y-yeah… Because of that…”

York looked down at the diner table. It was covered in signatures of zoners who had passed through over the years. As fate would have it, Dr. Death Defying’s signature was scrawled into the very table they were sitting at. He must be watching over them, she thought, running a finger over the name. Show Pony glanced at her, realizing what she was doing.

“He gave me everything,” Show Pony said suddenly, making York look up at them. They looked sad, not an often-worn expression for them. “When I got myself out of the city, it was like fate brought us together. He gave me somewhere I could call my own, he gave me something worth protecting.”

York had lots of people like that in her life. Quick Silver, of course. But also Fun Ghoul, who had risked his life for her and her siblings, and the other Killjoys, who had worked so hard to keep them all safe. The droids from the gas station too, they’d done so much to make sure they had good quality food to eat at the bottom of the Drop. And of course, Lucky Charm, who had graciously chosen to share his home with them until their own house was finished. York couldn’t imagine only having one of those people, and then to lose them after all that… She couldn’t comprehend the kind of pain that would bring.

“He was good to me, a true friend,” Show Pony went on, resting their head in their hands. “Now that he’s gone… I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

Yeah, York thought, she wouldn’t know what to do either. She didn’t say anything, not knowing what to do.

“Sorry,” Show Pony sniffled, wiping their nose. “Didn’t mean to drop that on you…”

“It’s okay,” York said quietly. “I don’t know how to help, but… I dunno, do whatever he would want you to do.”

They nodded, shuddering slightly with tears, carefully hiding their face.

York got up and walked to the stove again, turning off one burner and turning on another. She’d found that you couldn’t just run them all at once. Maybe it was the lack of gas or the fact that the stove was ancient, but there could only be two lit at a time. York stifled a yawn and turned around to find Show Pony standing by the front doors.

“You could sleep,” they said, not looking at her. “I’ll watch the storm.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, walking to the booths again. She could use some sleep after all the running through the freezing cold. While she tried to go to sleep, she snuck glances at Show Pony’s worried face. They’d been sad just a minute ago, but now they seemed nervous about something. Must just be how adults work, York thought tiredly as she shut her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all that's written for now. Text time I have a sizable chunk to post, I'll make sure to post it as soon as it's done! I hope you're enjoying it so far!! Thanks for reading!!


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